


Shirtless in New York

by KByrd



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KByrd/pseuds/KByrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post battle in New York. A chance to rest, lick wounds. Maria takes care of Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shirtless in New York

**Author's Note:**

> So ... I can't help but notice that Chris Evans makes a habit of being shirtless in a lot of projects (movies, Gucci ads, interviews). I figured I could write a few scenes where Steve Rogers shows off what he's got. Pure fluff, but it might lead to something later.

The avengers pile out of the minivan and stagger into the lobby of the hotel which is bustling with firefighters, paramedics, police and shield agents.

"Don't worry about us," announces Tony Stark, self-appointed spokesperson, if not leader of the team, "we had shawarma."

Most people hardly look up.

Pepper Potts drops all pretence and flings herself into his arms, almost knocking him over. The whole team looks fragile and shaky.

Tony rocks back, barely stays upright and grabs at her muttering about being 'just fine' while she babbles hysterically about missing his call and what the hell was he thinking .... ?

Maria averts her eyes deliberately and focuses on the rest of the team.

"So," she explains, "we have your kits here - clothes, first aid, everything you need. Have you really eaten already?"

"We're fed and watered," Thor assures her in his rumbly voice.

"Good," Maria nods. "We have rooms here, but this hotel is also hosting the first responders - you know police, firefighters, paramedics - and so they've asked us if we wouldn't mind double bunking ..."

Blank stares.

"There are two beds in every room," she rushes quickly through the prepared speech, "and with the destruction downtown, the first responders ... well, they kind of need rooms too."

Weary nods all around.

She hands out the hotel swipe cards. "Bruce, I thought you and Thor?"

He nods and takes not only the swipe card, but also the proffered knapsack with his name on it. He's dressed in dirty, loose pants and a shirt that is more rags than anything else.

He and Thor are closest to the elevators so they leave immediately.

"Clint, you and Captain Rogers?" She hands them each cards and knapsacks. They both look grey with fatigue and slightly stunned with that post adrenaline crash that she's seen before on soldiers and agents after a mission.

She ignores Pepper and Tony who have progressed from full out make out session to heading towards the elevators arm in arm. They're going up to the penthouse suite.

Clint, Natasha, Steve and Maria catch the next elevator up.

"Um, Maria," Natasha murmurs quietly in her ear as they enter the elevator. "Don't make too much of this, but I'd like to switch. Think Clint needs me tonight."

"Ah ... OK." They swap cards and Natasha departs at their floor with Clint.

Leaving Maria with Steve who is looking a little worse for wear, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes half closed. On closer inspection, Maria realises that his suit is shredded and the red, white and blue of his uniform is more blood and gore than sparkle.

"Here we are," she says with false cheerfulness. "This is our floor. Need some help?"

He grunts and peels himself off the wall with apparent effort. Somewhat to her surprise, he puts his arm around her and leans on her as they walk down down the corridor to their room.

"How badly hurt are you?" she asks.

"Hmm," he says idly. "Busted ribs, broken fingers, some nasty bruises and lacerations. I'll heal."

"Have you checked in with medical?"

She swipes the card and lets them into the room.

"They got better things to worry about," he grunts, sitting on the bed nearest the door.

"Need me to take a look?"

"Should get cleaned up first," he answers. "I want a shower most of all. I'm pretty gross."

She bends to help him remove his boots and then stands to help him to unfasten the suit from the top. He's fumbling with the myriad snaps and buttons, his broken fingers a clear impediment. The suit itself is made of a material similar to Kevlar. It's stiff and inflexible, also slimy with alien gore and slick with blood - much of which is Steve's.

She helps him peel it off his shoulders, very gingerly. He's clearly sore in lots of places.

She reaches for the snaps at his waist and he catches her hand.

"I can take it from here," he smiles.

She stands back and he heads for the bathroom.

"Leave the door unlocked," she advises him briskly.

He grins cheekily at her. "Why? In case something happens? If I were Tony ..."

But he's not Tony (nor is he Clint) so the snarky comment goes no further.

 

She calls Natasha who chides her timing. "If me and Clint were sleeping together, I wouldn't be answering my phone just about now. How's it going with Steve? Got him undressed yet?"

"He's in the shower."

"Good first step," Natasha teases. "Naked and clean."

Maria tries to ignore the innuendo. "Got any injuries I should know about?"

"I'll give Clint a good once over," Natasha promises.

There's a voice in the background and she snorts. "You wish."

Then she focuses on Maria again. "Why? Is someone hurt? I mean worse than expected?"

"No," Maria assures her. "But we should have checked in with medical. Kinda skipped that step."

She calls Bruce and gets Thor on the phone. "We're fine," he assures her. "Bruce has some damage to his hands, but I will wrap them up once he emerges from the shower."

"But you're fine?" she checks. "Some men don't like to admit when they are hurt."

"I'm fine," Thor repeats, clearly amused, "but I assume you mean Captain Rogers. I popped his shoulder in, but he has other injuries that he did not want to reveal."

"You did what?"

"It was dislocated."

 

She rummages in the first aid kit while she waits for Steve to emerge. He's takes what seems like an inordinate amount of time but finally comes out of the bathroom, wearing long pajama pants and holding a towel to his side.

"That suit's a bio hazard," he reports grimly. "I don't want to have to put it on ever again."

She smiles "I'll deal with it."

He nods.

"Still bleeding?" she asks briskly.

"Yeah."

"Sit down and let me stitch you up."

"You know how to do that?"

"Part of basic training."

His torso is a mess - a rainbow of bruises, pockmarked with concentric circles, scrapes, and scratches. He's holding the towel over his left side which looks shredded, still bleeding steadily.

Maria holds out a small yellow vial. "Something for the pain?"

He shakes his head. "Drugs don't work on me."

"This one says 'for Rogers only - 2-4 hours of local pain relief'."

"Huh," he says. "I knew they were working on something, but I hadn't realized ... Well, why not? When have I ever turned down a chance to try an experimental drug?"

Maria snorts in amusement at his wit. She turns the dial as the instructions say and plunges the tip into his shoulder. He grunts and makes a face, but otherwise makes little response.

She picks up the pre sterilized, pre packaged suture kit and starts to sow up the mess that is his side.

There are no straight lines. She zig zags her stitches, trying to staunch the bleeding and patch up the mess. His skin is supernaturally tough, but the needles are designed specifically for him and they slide right through.

"Don't worry about making it pretty," he tells her. "I don't mind the scars."

He hisses when she accidentally knocks a bump on his rib. Or actually his rib slightly out of place.

"Sorry, that's your broken rib?" She presses experimentally and winces when she feels it give and grate.

He nods. "S'ok. Hurt like hell, but drugs are kicking in now."

"They're working?"

"Hmm. Feeling kind of numb."

She works as fast as she dares.

Finished, she straightens up and stretches.

Steve is sitting very still, eyes closed, breathing steadily.

His eyelashes are longer and thicker than any man she's ever seen. And although he's clean shaven (as he always is), there's a shadow of stubble along the line of his jaw and around his mouth. His is a definitively masculine face.

Maria does not think that she is prone to the giggly swooning of some of the other female agents, but she has to admit that Steve is one of the most attractive men she's ever met. 

As Darcy once so eloquently described Thor, Steve is 'cut', muscular, yet beautifully proportioned. If you can look past the current damage, not to mention old, healed scars and freckles and what looks like an old burn on one shoulder, his body is certainly beautiful. From the pale curls on his chest to the tight abs, he could be a model. Maybe an underwear model. Frankly, the fewer the clothes the better.

Maria went to Georgetown on an athletic scholarship so she's had plenty of experience with beautiful men and athletes who were well aware of their attractiveness. Such men have never been high on her list of people to get to know. She's always been more intrigued by the brainy types, NOT the guys who would lecture for hours on the subject that fascinated them, but the rare guys who were curious and willing to admit that they didn't know everything. 

In another world, Bruce would be more her type, but of course, it's unthinkable for the SHIELD liaison to consider a relationship with an avenger.

Plus there's the whole Hulk issue which is so scary that even Natasha is rattled.

"Want me to wrap?" she asks. "For your ribs?"

"Yeah. That'd be great," he murmurs, opening his eyes. "You don't mind?"

He raises his arms and she wraps a roll of firm, yet stretchy medical tape around his torso.

"What are all these ... um, spots?" she asks, touching one of the concentric circle wounds.

"Bullets," he explains calmly. "Can't deflect them all, but the suit does a pretty good job of protecting me. Leaves a nasty bruise, but they'll be gone by tomorrow or day after."

She touches one, just below his collarbone. If the bullet had penetrated, it would have been fatal.

He watches her carefully.

She steps back. "How's your shoulder?"

"Thor's been telling tales?"

She smiles grimly. 

"It's fine," he assures her.

He gets up and pulls on a tank top, then goes to brush his teeth. "So you're staying here tonight?" he asks idly. 

"Mmhm," she acknowledges, opening up her laptop. "Hotel is booked solid and Natasha wanted to stay with Clint." She peers at Steve "That's OK with you?"

"Sure," he nods, still looking a little uncertain.

 

Much much later, she wakes up in bed, face pressed awkwardly into a pillow, still mostly dressed. She blinks in surprise at the bright sunlight streaming in the window.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Steve lets go of the curtain and the room darkens. Apparently he'd been looking out the window.

Maria climbs out of bed. She's dressed except for her jacket which is carefully folded over the chair and her shoes which are tucked under the desk. She feels grimy and she's pretty sure she's been drooling on her pillow.

Steve looks sideways at her rather shyly. "You fell asleep in the chair," he says. "Looked uncomfortable so I put you in bed. Hope that's OK?"

"You carried me to bed?" It's rather unsettling.

He nods.

Her imagination flares. She wonders what it was like to have her face pressed against his naked chest ... she gives herself a mental shake. Not going down that path.

"The team is meeting for breakfast. Want to join us?" he tells her.

"Sure, let me just clean up.

He leaves and she opens her laptop to quickly check email and read the news reports.

She hasn't even gotten around to having a shower when he returns carrying a muffin and a coffee, latte actually, from the coffee shop around the corner, not the hotel brand.

"Still working?" he asks, "you missed breakfast."

"Sorry, thanks." She wonders how he knows what she likes. Maybe one of the others told him.

She closes the laptop.

She asks how the others are doing as they pack up. The wrecked suit has been stuffed into a yellow hazard bag just as she promised.

He reports that everyone seems physically OK, but that he's expecting repercussions from Clint's situation.

Steve is wearing the clothes provided in the kit. They were chosen by Pepper no doubt, who has excellent taste, but he's not entirely comfortable in the clingy long sleeved t-shirt. Maria has to admire Pepper's taste since the soft cotton clings to every curve and emphasizes his biceps while the dusty blue brings out the colour in his eyes. She likes the effect and she's pretty sure every woman in New York is going to sit up and take notice.

But he's plucking uneasily at the shirt.

"You OK?" she asks.

"Seems a bit small," he complains mildly.

"It's modern fashion," she assures him. "Looks good on you."

He looks dubious.

"Shall we go?" she asks.

Cleaning up after the Avengers has just become Maria's full time job.


End file.
